Vendetta - At Last, Stefano's Secrets Are Unraveled

[Jungle Madness]

Disclaimers

All characters appearing in Days of Our Lives are copyright NBC and Corday Productions. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are not authorized by the copyright holder.

All original characters are the property of Celgress.

Days of Our Lives Vendetta: Prologue​

By ​

Celgress​

Salem, night

Dr. Wilhelm Rolf glanced over his shoulder again. The aging MD ducked into an empty alleyway. The night was typical of the Midwest this time of year; crisp, cold, clear. Overhead a smattering of stars could be seen between wispy clouds. A thin layer of freezing spray from the lake had coated the sidewalks near the pier making walking a treacherous proposition. Pulling his fedora lower and the collar of his trench coat higher he peeked out at the street curiously looking both ways before resuming his journey. The street appeared deserted. He wasn’t in any immediate danger, or so he hoped. His intended destination the vaunted Salem insinuation the Brady Pub was only a few block away. He had made it this far. A couple more streets wouldn’t kill him, he hoped.

Dr. Rolf knew he was taking a huge risk returning to Salem and especially seeking out the Brady Clan. The often labelled, in his opinion by jealous, misguided others, “mad scientist” and one time primary, personal physician of the infamous master criminal Stefano Dimera entertained no illusions concerning his likely fate. By tomorrow morning perhaps sooner he’d be cooling his heels in a holding cell care of the Salem PD. Much of the information he planned on divulging would no doubt make the Bradys, and their friends the Hortons, justifiably furious. The hot headed Bo Brady and John Black would surely give him at least a moderate beating once the full truth was known. Granted he had been involved in terrible schemes against Marlena Black and Hope Brady, not to mention John himself. The things he’d done were beyond unethical. Facing their collective wrath was not an option he relished. However it was better than the alternative. Who knows perhaps they’d look on the bright side? He would be giving them their lives back in a way. If not for his information they’d probably never know the complete truth. Stefano or that dastardly Andre certainly would never tell that much was certain.

Lost in thought Dr. Rolf tripped on an icy patch of sidewalk. With a loud groan he regained his footing several minutes later. Gingerly he put weight on his twisted left ankle. Barely suppressing a gasp of pain Dr. Rolf slowly limped up the street. Mentally he cursed himself for not paying attention. He didn’t need a leg injury on top of his existing problems.

Checking his wristwatch Dr. Rolf swore. It was nearly midnight local time on a Wednesday night. He remembered from his time in Salem the Brady Pub usually closed by twelve am on weeknights, except on special occasions such as Saint Patrick’s Day. If he didn’t get there soon he’d be out of luck. He knew spending a night on the streets would spell certain doom. He could always turn himself in. However without a special guard he highly doubted the blatantly incompetent Salem PD could protect him. No, his only choice was to soldier on. It was Brady Pub or failure.

Half limping half dragging his rapidly numbing left foot Dr. Rolf continued on. Across the street from his destination he took a breather. Leaning up against a building he sucked in oxygen. His lungs burned from the frigid winter air. Steadying himself he pushed off the brick wall. He’d come this far now the final push.

A finger tapped his back. Whirling around out of sheer instinct Dr. Rolf found himself impaled on a steel pike. The implement of destruction lodged firmly in his lower chest. He tried to speak but only a steady stream of blood dribbled out of his mouth. Dominating his field of vision was a grey clocked grim reaper like character. A shinny steel skull with lifeless neon red eyes stared at Dr. Rolf. The phantom’s form was clad in black except for grey boots, a steel gloved right hand, steel arm & knee pads and grey belt. The left hand had been replaced by a steel hook type weapon. A weapon now firmly embedded in Dr. Rolf’s inners.

“Dr. Rolf you disappoint me.” An electronically distorted voice proclaimed. “Coming here was the obvious choice. Your lack of ingenuity makes me contemplate why Stefano held you in such high regard. Could it be you’ve lost your legendary touch? None escape Charon. A lesson you have now learned firsthand. I shall visit justice upon your brethren with equal ease. Your angel of death has arrived.” Charon brutally withdrew his hook from Dr. Rolf’s broken body with a sickening twist of his left arm, dislodging a clump of viscera with it. Scraping his stained hook along the brick wall Charon whistled the Bible rhyme “all the little rabbits in the field of corn.”

The slain Dr. Rolf lay in a puddle of his own bodily fluids until he was found the following morning when he was discovered by the shop owner who rented the building where Rolf met his fate. When the Salem PD searched the body they found a bloodstained note addressed to the Brady & Horton Families which caused a great deal of buzz. The note read –

'If you are reading this I have perished. I am truly sorry. I have caused much suffering in my life while in the employ of the Dimera Family, in particular Stefano. I only hope in death I can make amends. An extremely dangerous individual known as Charon will stop at nothing to make sure the truth about Stefano’s many schemes never see the light of day. Don’t be fooled Charon is no friend of the Dimeras rather this individual has an agenda that involves suppressing the facts for reasons. Charon and his followers are targeting current and former Dimera medical staff with backgrounds in genetic research. Years ago using cutting edge technology I spearheaded a team project codenamed Operation Ouroboros. Our work took place deep in the rainforest of South America. The Gemini Twins, Rex and Cassie, were an early product of efforts. Unfortunately time and material constraints do not permit a full recounting of Operation Ouroboros here. Suffice to say once you learn the facts your lives will be changed in ways you could scarcely believe. No matter what you must uncover the truth. The very future of Salem depends upon it. Please heed my words, while you still can. Save the innocent, find the other Dimera doctors'.

Turning over the note in his hand Commissioner Roman Brady made a decision. Picking up the phone he dialed a familiar number. He waited impatiently for the party on the other end to pick up.

“Hello little brother,” Roman began then paused. “I think we finally caught a break in the Dimera case. Nah, the old man’s still on the lamb has been ever since Junior’s demise. Listen remember Stefano’s creepy scientist pal Doctor Wilhelm Rolf.” Roman read from the official police report which was strewn across his desk. “The same, yeah well Dr. Rolf got himself murdered across the street from the Pub late last night. Don’t worry it was closed at the time. Things get stranger from there. Dr. Rolf had a hand written note on him stating a yahoo named Charon is behind the murder. Seems this Charon is targeting former Dimera employees involved in genetic research. According to Rolf’s note they all worked on something called Operation Ouroboros back in the day. Oh it gets better the note states Operation Ouroboros produced Cassie and Rex. I’m not kidding. It also states there are secrets that affect the Brady and Horton families, secrets that are part of Ouroboros. Secrets that Charon wants hidden and is willing to kill to see that they are, now I don’t know about you but I think this could be what we need. All of Stefano’s dirty laundry ripe for the picking, what say you little brother are you coming home? I knew you couldn’t resist, see you soon.” Roman finished grinning he hung up the phone.

To Be Continued

Please tell me why you think. Should I continue?

Note -

Hi my fellow Days fans. Seeing how TIIC will likely never truly resolve the Dimera Clan vs the people of Salem storyline and all the assorted unanswered questions surrounding Stefano's various crimes, I've decided to write a conclusion of my own as this epic piece of fanfiction. Now I need your help so that I cover everything in the story arch of importance. For example I know the murky status of John Black must be resolved along with whatever Alice Horton allegedly had on Stefano/the Dimeras. What else springs to your minds that you'd like addressed in my swashbuckling adventure?

 

[Jungle Madness]

Days of Our Lives Vendetta – Episode One: Castaways​

By ​

Celgress​

Island of Matool, day

Jack Deveraux’s head swam. Lights sparkled before his dazzled eyes. Where was he? What had happened? Last thing he remembered was the elevator plunging.

“Abagail,” Jack mumbled feebly.

“Sssh everything is alright. You’re safe now, well for the time being.” An oddly familiar voice said.

Slowly Jack’s surroundings came into focus. His restored field of vision was dominated by a scruffy man with a bushy black beard. Jack felt like he should know the man.

“W-who are you?” Jack whispered.

“Eugene Bradford inventor extraordinaire at your service,” The scruffy man said with a flourish.

“Eugene Bradford.” Jack repeated. “I remember. You’ve been missing for the past twenty-five years.”

“Its’ been closer to thirty actually.” Eugene grumbled.

“W-where have you been all this time?” Jack asked ignoring the strangest of his present situation, his reporter instincts getting the better of him.

“The same place you’ve been for the past two years my friend, a guest of the Red Sickle Syndicate.” Eugene said.

“I’ve been here how long?” Jack said holding his aching head.

“Hard to believe I know. The convert branch of Dimera Enterprises that used to operate this cozy little tropical island getaway kept you pretty doped up once you arrived. It was shortly after your arrival our new caretakers infiltrated the Island purging the operation of Dimera employees and took over.” Eugene explained. “The Red Sickle Syndicate members decided the best course of action was to keep you in a drug induced haze following several escape attempts. Charon only consent to have your special medication temporarily stopped because his doctors advised him you’d die otherwise due to prolonged exposure.”

“Red Sickle Syndicate, Charon,” Jack said woozily. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t have been here two years. Y-you must be mistaken.”

“I was afraid this would happen.” Eugene said. “The drugs they had you on have caused brain damage.”

Before Jack could speak a previously unnoticed door opened. Through the doorway was shoved a bearded, brown haired man wearing dirty rags. The new arrival landed on the cold, hard floor at Jack’s feet. Upon closer examination Jack recognized the man right away. The eye patch was a dead giveaway.

“S-Steve,” Jack yelled.

“Do not interfere with Prisoner Johnson or you’ll be punished accordingly Prisoner Deveraux.” A dark haired teenage boy dressed in khaki shorts and a top bearing a red sickle symbol accentuated by black instructed. Slung over his right shoulder was a leather strap which held an AK-47. The youth brandished the refile menacingly.

“Back off Zack,” Eugene said. “Prisoner Deveraux has lost his memory. He has no idea how the rules around here work.”

“Not my problem Prisoner Bradford.” Zack said sneering Zack clobbered Eugene over the head with his rifle butt.

“Hey that was uncalled for.” Jack shouted only to receive similar treatment. The world went black. When Jack next came to Steve “Patch” Johnson was kneeling over him. “Ouch,” Jack said gingerly touching his bruised head. “That kid Zack certainly packs a wallop.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve said with a mirthless laugh.

 

[Jungle Madness]

Jack tried to stand but found his feet were shackled to the floor. Glancing around the now dimly lit cell he saw his companions were likewise shackled. He picked up a heavy chain in his hands shooting Steve a questioning look.

“Courtesy of Zack I’d guess.” Steve said, “no doubt punishment for our flaunting of the established rules.”

“Steve please tell me what is going on?” Jack pleaded.

“You really remember nothing of the past two years, huh?”

“Nothing,” Jack confirmed.

“Welcome to Hell old buddy or as the locals call it the Island of Matool. Now you won’t find Matool on any chart or map. Heck I bet even Google Earth doesn’t list this little spec out in the middle of the South Pacific. From what I understand the Dimeras greased many high powered palms to keep this place super-secret. Legend has it Matool once belong to an uncle of the sainted Santo Dimera.” Steve continued with a snort. “Once old Stefano got his dirty hands on it he quickly converted Matool into his most clandestine of clandestine holdings, building an extensive camouflaged compound. Besides holding their most hated and/or dangerous enemies here all our favorite Clan’s immoral medical research takes place on Matool, or at least it did. Until the Red Sickle Syndicate claimed the island for their purposes. Now Matool has been converted into some sort of paramilitary training camp, far as I can tell, run by a costumed wacko name of Charon.”

“Charon, Eugene mentioned him earlier.” Jack said.

“Charon’s the loon who calls the shots around here.” Steve said. “He enjoys dressing up like the grim reaper, complete with steel skull mask and sickle sporting hand. I’ve never seen his face.”

“Nor have I.” Eugene added. “He wears that getup everywhere, and people used to think I was strange.”

“C-Charming fella,” Jack said. “A-Any ideas how we get escape from here?”

“We don’t.” Steve said hanging his head in defeat.

“Don’t tell me the great PI Steve ‘Patch’ Johnson is admitting defeat?” Jack said in shock.

“It isn’t that simple, okay.” Steve fired back. “Even if we could get off this rock, based upon what I’ve overheard Matool is far from the shipping lanes. We’d never reach civilization.”

“I-I’d rather die trying than grow old here.” Jack said feeling more like himself by the minute. “What about our families Steve?”

“What about them Jack,” Steve said staring at the journalist with his good eye.

“We can’t give up hope, if not for ourselves than for their shake.” Jack said. “I don’t know about you but I refuse to let Stefano Dimera or this Charon clown win. The Dimeras have taken too much from our loved ones already.”

“Bravo, what a rousing speech,” said a fourth individual from the shadows while slowly clapping. Jack hadn’t noticed him earlier because the man had remained sitting quietly shackled in the corner observing the others talk.

“Shut up Andre.” Steve said venomously.

“My aren’t we in a bad mood tonight Patch.” Andre Dimera taunted flashing a brilliant smile around his own thick beard.

“Never call me that, you don’t have the right.” Steve said through gritted teeth.

“We don’t associate with mass murderers.” Eugene said shooting a stony stare in Andre’s direction.

“Still sore I killed Trista Evans eh Bradford?” Andre said

“Let me at him.” Eugene said lunging at Andre, his chains preventing him from making much progress. “She was the love of my life. You brutally murdered a sweet, innocent young woman who wouldn’t have hurt a fly. One you hardly even knew I might add.”

“Cry me a river.” Andre pouted.

“You truly are a monster Andre.” Steve said.

“Why thank you Patch, I do try.” Andre gloated.

“D-Don’t you ever regret the things you’ve done?” Jack said astonished by the depth of Andre’s cruelty.

“Not particularly,” Andre shrugged. “Life isn’t fair. We live in a dog eat dog world, governed by the law of the jungle survival of the fittest.”

“What about love?” Jack asked.

“Don’t waste your breath Jack.” Steve said. “I doubt Andre here has ever known true love. He’s incapable of the emotion.”

Andre suddenly got a faraway look in his eyes. His lips quivered momentarily. “I did love one person with all my heart but she betrayed me my dear sweet Kristen the only woman who ever genuinely returned my affection, if only briefly.”

“I don’t care what it takes.” Jack said ignoring Andre’s response. “I’m getting off this island.”

“Count me in.” Eugene said. “I’ve been here long enough.”

“I’ll join you.” Andre said.

“Sorry no psychopaths allowed, costumes rule you understand.” Steve said flashing Andre a smile of his own.

“Very assuming,” Andre said dryly. “Either I accompany you or I inform our hosts of you planed escape.”

“A-Alright you can come with us.” Jack conceded Andre grinned.

“Dammit now I have to come along.” Steve said with mock indignation. “Otherwise Scarface over there will surely kill you two.”

“Good it is settled, we are leaving Matool soon as possible.” Jack said rubbing his hands together with childlike glee.

To Be Continued